“We believe we can make you an offer you can’t refuse,” Adam Harrison said.
Harrison. Malachi thought he knew the name. Harrison had been around a long time; he was known for solving some horrible crimes, some cases that...
Were unusual.
That had some kind of...
Ghosts.
He opened the door. “Okay, come on in, but I was about to have a Scotch. You can join me or not. I’ll listen to you—but that’s it. I’ll listen.”
Harrison walked in, followed by the other two. Malachi closed the door behind them.
They saw Zachary.
He asked them to go ahead and sit down in the old parlor by the huge stone hearth. Back in the kitchen, he scooped ice into glasses and poured Scotch.
He paused, then added a second shot to his own.
He had a feeling his life was about to change.
*
“One day I’ll fall, but I will fall to the law on the high seas, and not to the likes of you, Scurvy Pete! I will go with my ship—and not with the dregs of the sea!”
“To the death, Blue Anderson! To the death!”
The two young fencers/actors played out the battle between Blue Anderson and Scurvy Pete Martin with passion and panache on a raised all-weather stage at the far side of the Dragonslayer parking lot. They were decked out in full pirate gear, colorful flared and embellished jackets swirling around them as they accomplished each choreographed step.
The wench they fought over—a British admiral’s daughter named Missy Tweed—cowered in a corner while they fought. She was customarily played by a pretty young blonde from the local arts academy. Eyewitness accounts of the encounter in the river between the two pirates described Blue as a hero, even if he’d been a pirate. But Blue was known for being a staunch Englishman above all else; he didn’t mind sacking a non-British ship of her treasure, and he only went to battle against enemies of the Crown. Blue swore he’d never be caught, nor would he abandon his crew. He never was caught; he sailed away one summer when storms were rampant and wasn’t seen again.
The tourist performance—and come-on for the restaurant—ended with the death of Scurvy Pete, and Blue’s announcement, “The lady may bring riches, but she’ll not be disrespected whilst in my, er, care!” Abigail applauded with the others. She knew the two young actors playing the parts. Blue was played by Roger English, an old friend; they’d graduated from high school together. Without his long dark braided wig and beard, he had sandy-blond hair and deep brown, expressive eyes. Roger, who was an avid fan of Savannah’s history, also ran one of the best ghost tours in the city.
She smiled, thinking about old times. Even as a kid, he’d loved to tell scary stories, some from history and some he’d made up. It had all paid off for him in the end.
Scurvy Pete was played by Paul Westermark, who’d gradated in the class before them. Paul sometimes worked for Roger, but he was also an accomplished vocalist and guitarist and spent many nights playing local venues.
While their audience, collected from passersby on the street and those who knew that the two pirates performed on Saturdays, grouped around to congratulate them on their performance or ask “pirate” questions, Abby hurried around to the front to reach the restaurant.
She was anxious.
Come home. I need you.
That cryptic summons had come from Gus Anderson, her grandfather, and had brought Abigail Anderson driving down from Virginia. He hadn’t wanted to talk to her about “the situation” on the phone; he needed to see her in person. She feared the worst. Gus was in his early nineties and even if he was in excellent shape for his age, he was certainly no spring chicken. And while she would’ve dropped anything in the world to come home if he was in trouble, she couldn’t help but marvel at his timing. She’d finished at the academy, and she was now waiting for her actual assignment. That made it a perfect time for her to drive home.